Salmar-Noldorin by Dawn Walls-Thumma

Salmar-Noldorin was one of the original Valar present in Tolkien's earliest work on the legendarium, The Book of Lost Tales. While Salmar survived to make it into the published Silmarillion, it was in much-reduced form, and he is mentioned only once in the published text.

Salmar was one of the pantheon of sea gods in the early legendarium, which was much more extensive in the earliest texts (or, at least, these gods were given more substantial roles): Ulmo, Ossë, Uinen (here, Ónen), Salmar, and "the troops of the Oarni and Falmarini and the long-tressed Wingildi, … the spirits of the foam and the surf of ocean."¹ Salmar is also identified as the brother of the Vala Omar-Amillo, though Omar's role is less defined—he is never directly associated with the sea but rather with music—and swiftly disappeared from the legendarium.² At this stage of development of the legendarium, Tolkien did not yet distinguish between Valar and Maiar, so while Salmar is identified as a "subordinate" of Ulmo,³ he arrives in Arda with the other Valar and is part of their pantheon.

Salmar's tale, however, would deviate significantly from those of his pelagic pals Ossë and Uinen. While they retained a strong association with the sea and are rarely mentioned out of this context, Tolkien's conception of Salmar was more disjointed. Salmar appeared as a sea god, a friend of the Noldor, a musician, and a warrior. While Tolkien's early writings include glimmers of interesting storylines for Salmar, it may have been this same polymathic characterization—and lack of full development of any one of these single approaches—that led to his eventual diminishment in the narrative.

Salmar the Sea God

As noted above, Salmar's chief association in Tolkien's early writings was with the sea. Interestingly, in these early texts, Salmar is identified as the only one of the array of sea deities to arrive directly with Ulmo. Ossë—who would remain a Vala for some time after Tolkien created the distinction between Valar and Maiar—and Uinen not only traveled separately but would often act in opposition to Ulmo. "Salmar there was with him," Tolkien writes in the original Music of the Ainur, "and Ossë and Ónen to whom he gave the control of the waves and lesser seas, and many another."⁴ Tolkien elaborates on this later:

Thereafter came Ulmo and Aulë, and with Ulmo were none, save Salmar only who was after known as Noldorin, for good though the heart of that mighty one he thought ever deep thoughts alone, and was silent and aloof and haughty—even to the Ainur ….⁵

So, in essence, Salmar was the only one able to tolerate Ulmo's crabby personality long enough to remain with him for any length of time. This is of little surprise, especially given that the relationship between Ulmo and Ossë is frequently characterized as oppositional. Where Uinen serves as a fitting companion for Ossë's rebellious mischief, however, Salmar does not appear in a similarly supportive role for Ulmo. Instead, Tolkien seems to have diversified in his intentions for Salmar, although he would later double down on this conception of Salmar-as-sea-god and in a role with a special affinity with Ulmo.

Salmar the Bard (and Brother)

Early writings also give Salmar a special association with music. This isn't particularly surprising for a character identified with the sea in the legendarium: water and music are explicitly connected in the legendarium.⁶ In The Book of Lost Tales, we are told of Salmar:

In Valmar too dwelt Noldorin known long ago as Salmar, playing now upon his harps and lyres, now sitting beneath Laurelin and raising sweet music with an instrument of the bow. There sang Amillo joyously to his playing, Amillo who is named Omar, whose voice is the best of all voices, who knoweth all songs in all speeches; but whiles if he sang not to his brother's harp then would he be trilling in the gardens of Oromë when after a time Nieliqui, little maiden, danced about its woods.⁷

Here, Salmar's musicality is introduced, and he is first presented as the brother of Omar-Amillo, with whom he will appear again in the Lost Tales but who otherwise has little role. In a list of secondary names of the Valar, Salmar and Omar are presented as twins.⁸ Interestingly, Salmar's speciality as a musician is stringed instruments where, in his final presentation in the texts that would become the published Silmarillion, he is credited with making the Ulumúri "the horns of Ulmo that none may ever forget who once has heard them."⁹

After the destruction of the Two Trees, Salmar and Omar appear again in their role as musicians: "Salmar and Omar stood by and their instruments of music made no sound and they were heavy of heart.¹⁰ In this instance, the silence of their instruments expresses their sorrow and gravity of feeling. The act of standing by is significant too, as will become clearer below, when Salmar's role as a warrior is discussed.

Salmar and Omar together appear again one final time—the last time Omar would appear in the legendarium—when Vána resurrects Laurelin enough to bear a final fruit that will become the Sun:

Then sped Vána a little way out upon the plain, and she lifted up her sweet voice with all her power and it came trembling faintly to the gates of Valmar, and all the Valar heard. Then said Omar. "'Tis the voice of Vána's lamentation," but Salmar said: "Nay, listen more, for rather is there joy in that sound," and all that stood by hearkened, and the words they heard were I·kal'antúlien, Light hath returned.¹¹

It is odd that Omar, who has been described as paramount among the singers of the Valar and "who knoweth all songs in all speeches" cannot distinguish between a song powerful enough to kindle the Sun and a song of lament, but the Lost Tales are early, unfinished texts, and this may be an oversight (or may acknowledge the complexity of feeling among the Valar, like Vána, whose work produced the Sun and Moon: grand achievements nonetheless and undeniably inferior to the Two Trees they replaced). Regardless, this brief association between Salmar and Omar perpetuates a pattern in Tolkien's theogony where the Ainur are paired, either with spouses or with siblings (or both). Likewise is his apparent fascination with twins who typically function as composite characters; Salmar and Omar join a group that includes Amrod and Amras, Eluréd and Elurín, Elrond and Elros, and Elladan and Elrohir. (The similar sound of their names, both ending in -mar, holds with the tradition as well.) No matter what Tolkien may have briefly entertained for this pair of (possibly twin) brothers, it was indeed brief: Omar would leave the text entirely, and Salmar's role would expand in directions where his brother was not included.

Noldorin the Noldorin Mentor

As noted above, Salmar's most enduring role was that of a musician. Here, however, his role takes a surprising turn for the legendarium. While all of the Elves are ascribed preternatural musical abilities, the group of Elves most known for their skill in music are the Teleri. Furthermore, Telerin musicality is attributed to the sea gods—both Ulmo and Ossë are credited with imbuing a love and skill for music in the Teleri¹²—but notably not Salmar.

This is because Salmar was a teacher of the Noldor, hence his name Noldorin. (He is given multiple other names in the text as well: Golthadriel [earlier Goldriel] in Gnomish and Lirillo, also in association with the Noldor.) In the earliest version of the story found in the Lost Tales, Salmar would play an important role in the history of the Noldor, which will be discussed below in the context of his role as a warrior. However, during the Years of the Trees, Salmar is discussed in a role similar to that of Ossë but for the Noldor—as a teacher of music:

Often were the Noldoli with them and made much music for the multitude of their harps and viols was very sweet, and Salmar loved them; but their greatest delight was in the courts of Aulë, or in their own dear homes in Kôr, fashioning many beautiful things and weaving many stories.¹³

If this passage seems rather breathlessly complex, it's because it is. Tolkien here seems to be dithering with various roles and alliances for his Noldor, who are growing in importance in the story: They are great musicians! And friends of Salmar! But they prefer Aulë! And making things! And also telling stories! The big idea of the Noldor as craftspersons and scientists is clearly emerging here, but it is complicated by Salmar—and this may have been a reason why this particular role for Salmar disappeared almost immediately upon Tolkien embarking on the first set of revisions to the "Silmarillion" materials in the 1930s.

Nonetheless, in this early version of the story, Salmar and the Noldor remain beloved of one another—enough that Salmar is identified as just Noldorin at times. We see Salmar—and his particular role as a teacher of music to the Noldor—emerge again when the Noldor fall prey to the lies of Melkor. In this earliest version of the Darkening of Valinor, the wrath of Melkor is less targeted to the House of Finwë than to the Noldor more generally. As in the published Silmarillion, he poisons their thoughts with lies and fears of treachery, claiming the Valar intend to hold them as slaves. While the dramatic encounter between Fëanor and Fingolfin, where Fëanor lays his sword at Fingolfin's throat, is missing, the story is nonetheless reminiscent of the later published version. The Noldor are summoned to speak before Manwë, the lies of Melkor are laid bare, and the Noldor (versus the House of Fëanor) exile themselves outside of Kôr (the early version of Tirion) for a span of years, awaiting Manwë's forgiveness.

It happens that this forgiveness comes on the day of a festival—actually two festivals that, due to a periodic confluence on the calendar, fall on the same day in what is called the Feast of Double Mirth:

Then was all that host marshalled before the gate of Valmar, and at the word and sign from Inwë as one voice they burst in unison into the Song of Light. This had Lirillo written and taught them, and it told of the longing of the Elves for light, of their dread journey through the dark world led by the desire of the Two Trees, and sang of their utmost joy beholding the faces of the Gods and their renewed desire once more to enter Valmar and tread the Valar's blessed Courts.¹⁴

Lirillo, as noted above, is one of several secondary names assigned to Salmar.¹⁵ Here, his role is teaching them a song that they use to signify their desire for forgiveness from the Valar, and it is not subtle. They clearly wish to show they have learned their lesson. The crux of the song isn't their past joy and eagerness to again behold the light of the Two Trees—for which they claim to have longed—but the faces of the Gods. In any case, under Salmar's tutelage, they get what they want and are permitted to participate in the festival and are forgiven.

The Noldor would play a pivotal role in the final facet of Salmar's identity: that of a warrior.

Salmar the Warrior

The Book of Lost Tales were Tolkien's first writings of the legendarium, begun while he was still a young man—some of them while he was hospitalized during World War I and others post-war, while he began his career at the Oxford English Dictionary—and they are unfinished. Most of the plot points in this section were never written but were merely outlined and survive as fragments that cannot be dated. This makes it especially difficult to infer whether they were key ideas in Tolkien's first conception of the legendarium or, like many of his draft writings (or many of any writer's draft writings), swiftly entertained and just as swiftly forgotten.

Salmar's role as a warrior is not surprising, given that he is also strongly identified as a musician. Here, it is important to remember the historical context of the cultures Tolkien studied professionally and drew from in his legendarium. The Northern traditions that Tolkien adored did not regard music as the emotional frippery of moon-eyed and lovelorn poets. Music (and poetry) were equated with power, especially political power. In the Anglo-Saxon and Norse courts of the medieval period, music and poetry were used to shape public judgments of a ruler. This "public" was generally preliterate (or part of societies where literacy was mostly controlled by the Church), and it was music and poetry that determined a ruler's legacy.¹⁶

We've already seen Salmar use music in this way with his tutelage of the Noldor after their exile from Kôr. The song he writes for and teaches them foregrounds the achievements and benevolence of the Valar, depicting the Noldor as terrified smallfolk who were mercifully delivered from darkness by the capital-G Gods. Likewise, his (and Omar's) silence post-Darkening speaks of a bardic tradition that is not about emotional release but about making sense of the world—and turning that sense into tradition—through poetry and song.

During Tolkien's phase of writing Salmar and Omar together as twin-composite brothers, he depicted the pair of them in a martial mein as the Valar pursued Melkor after his repeated destructions of Arda (including the Lamps). This Lost Tale tells us that the Valar were hoping to negotiate but were fully prepared to chain him and remove him by force, if needed. Salmar is shown to be not just present but eager:

There rode the Fanturi upon a car of black, and there was a black horse upon the side of Mandos and a dappled grey upon the side of Lórien, and Salmar and Omar came behind running speedily, but Aulë who was late tarrying overlong at his smithy came last, and he was not armed, but caught up his long-handled hammer as he left his forge and fared hastily to the borders of the Shadowy Sea ….¹⁷

However, this is not the first time Salmar has been written in a warrior role, and while the remaining texts are highly fragmentary and contradictory, they offer a tantalizing glimpse of the story Tolkien might have developed for Salmar, had he completed the Lost Tales. Salmar's first appearance as a warrior occurs in the Lost Tales, in the early text The Cottage of Lost Play. In this text, the Noldorin Elf Lindo is beginning to tell the Anglo-Saxon mariner Eriol of the history of the Eldar. (Note, too, that the Vairë mentioned here is his Noldorin wife, not the Vala.) His mention of Salmar is offhand:

"But after many days Ingil son of Inwë, seeing this place to be very fair, rested here and about him gathered most of the fairest and the wisest, most of the merriest and the kindest, of all the Eldar. Here among those many came my father Valwë who went with Noldorin to find the Gnomes, and the father of Vairë my wife, Tulkastor."¹⁸

So Salmar … went to "find the Gnomes"? What exactly is happening here?

The Fall of Gondolin is, of course, a very early text, likely written in 1916-17, around the same time as The Cottage of Lost Play. It underwent several revisions, impossible to date, that Christopher Tolkien observes must have occurred before his father read The Fall of Gondolin at Exeter College in 1920.¹⁹ In this early version of the story, after the fall of Gondolin, word of the tragedy reached the Eldar who had remained in Valinor after the Darkening. Interestingly, in this early version of the story, it was the "doves and pigeons" of Gondolin who fluttered across the sea to bring word to the Gondolindrim's long-sundered kin; Eärendil, though present, did not play as important of a role as he would once Tolkien put him in the place of the pigeons.²⁰ The Elves are devastated by the news and, in defiance of the Valar, travel to Middle-earth to avenge their kin. Salmar—exhibiting both the rebellious and humanitarian impulses of the other sea gods—goes with them.

Once there, Salmar is part of a battle in the Land of the Willows, Nan-tathren, a region that is rumored to be deeply enchanted. (Treebeard mentioned it in his song to Merry and Pippin in The Two Towers.) The outcome of the Battle of Tasarinan, as it is called, depends on which version of the text you read. For that reason, I intentionally cut off its poetic description, found in The Fall of Gondolin:

Did not even after the days of Tuor Noldorin [Salmar] and his Eldar come there seeking for Dor Lomin and the hidden river and the caverns of the Gnomes' imprisonment; yet thus nigh to their quest's end were like to abandon it? Indeed sleeping and dancing here, and making fair music of river sounds and the murmur of grass, and weaving rich fabrics of gossamer and the feathers of winged insects ….²¹

After Salmar and his people apparently cut loose for a little light revelry in the Nan-tathren, "they were whelmed by the goblins sped by Melko from the Hills of Iron."²² Tolkien, though, couldn't make up his mind what happened next. The Fall of Gondolin version says that "Noldorin made bare escape thence" but does not elaborate on what happened next.²³ In another version, Salmar was likewise overthrown and wanders off with his harp,²⁴ a choice reminiscent of another distraught warrior-bard who has not yet entered the legendarium. An isolated note on the same text gives more detail … and a more proactive ending for Salmar: "Noldorin [Salmar] escapes from the defeat of the Land of Willows and takes his harp and goes seeking in the Iron Mountains for Valwë and the Gnomes until he finds their place of imprisonment. Tulkas follows. Melko comes to meet him."²⁵ This version, too, parallels the decisions of yet another [Noldorin] warrior-bard when faced with the frustration of defeat. A final version has Salmar captured at the Battle of Tasarinan.²⁶ Short of also granting Salmar victory over Melkor's goblins or being killed outright, you could not ask for a more contradictory set of outcomes.

As one of the versions implies, there is a battle between Tulkas and Melkor at the Silent Pools. In an early version of The Fall of Gondolin, Salmar was also present at this battle (which aligns with the Fingon-version of the story where Salmar takes his harp and successfully pursues Valwë and the captive Noldor).²⁷ While this concept was abandoned, at least based on the Fall of Gondolin text, it again shows Tolkien's characterization of Salmar as a warrior.

These texts are impossible to untangle. We know that the concept of Salmar as a warrior who went forth with the Elves to aid their kin, defying the Valar, was early because The Fall of Gondolin and The Cottage of Lost Play were both early texts. Do the other notes and fragments come from this time? What of the revisions to The Fall of Gondolin? If all early, they show that Tolkien had an intense, if fleeting, idea of Salmar in a heroic, rebellious role. If more spread out, this appears instead to be an idea that assumed a more permanent place in Tolkien's earliest conception of the legendarium.

This latter possibility is bolstered by the fact that there are definite parallels between Salmar's fragmentary story in the early texts and how Tolkien would develop the plotlines of Noldorin warrior-bards like Fingon and Maglor later in his work on the "Silmarillion." As Salmar faded from the legendarium, elements of his story seem to have diffused to other characters among the Noldorin people who once revered him.

The Relics of Salmar

As the legendarium evolves, Salmar recedes from the story. Indeed, his most lasting legacy isn't his character at all but an artifact—the Ulumúri—with which he isn't even associated in the early versions of the "Silmarillion."

From the Lost Tales, Ulmo played conch shells: trumpeting upon them into battle with Melkor, using them to lead the Teleri across the mist-choked sea to Aman, and "play[ing] deep longing music on his magic conches" after the loss of the Two Trees.²⁸ This "thing of shells" is elaborately described in The Fall of Gondolin:

Thither [Ulmo] bore too his great instrument of music; and this was of strange design, for it was made of many long twisted shells pierced with holes. Blowing therein and playing with his long fingers he made deep melodies of a magic greater than any other among musicians hath ever compassed on harp or lute, on lyre or pipe, or instruments of the bow.²⁹

Here too, Ulmo's conches are credited with provoking the unbearable sea-longing of first Tuor, then Eärendil.³⁰ Yet, however strange—and sinister—an instrument, these conches are simply a possession of Ulmo's character; their making (much less their maker) goes unremarked upon, and they are not yet named.

In the 1930s, Tolkien would assign the conches of Ulmo to Salmar as their artificer.³¹ In 1959, in his writing of the Valaquenta, Tolkien would briefly christened the conches Falarombar before striking that name from the text in favor of Ulumúri, thus settling the Ulumúri—and Salmar—into the form they would take in the published Silmarillion.

Like Salmar, the conches would diminish in power over time. In the 1950s Valaquenta,³² the Ulumúri continue to inspire sea-longing, but it is much less intense than the singular obsession that overcame Tuor and Eärendil in the earliest texts:

At times he will come unseen to the shores of Middle-earth, or pass far inland up firths of the sea, and there make music upon his great horns, the Ulumúri, that are wrought of white shell; and those to whom that music comes hear it ever after in their hearts, and longing for the sea never leaves them again.³³

The gentler longing the Ulumúri inspire is captured in another passage from the published Silmarillion, written in the early 1950s, concerning the Teleri and their love for the sea: "because of [Ulmo's] words and the music which he made for them on his horns of shell their fear of the sea was turned rather to desire."³⁴ I've observed this tendency before in other biographies of Ainurian characters: Tolkien's tendency to soften them from their perilous, fey, paganistic, and often morally complex early versions. In the case of Salmar, he undergoes this twice: first to disappear as a character and exist primarily as a relic, the Ulumúri, which are themselves then diminished.

Conclusion: Salmar's Outcome

After abandoning work on the Lost Tales, in the early 1930s, Tolkien began rewriting the legendarium in a much pared-down version that he built up into the texts that Christopher Tolkien would later use to make The Silmarillion. By the time this second phase of the "Silmarillion" materials begins, Salmar is gone. The story of Elwing and Eärendil and the sending of aid out of Valinor is taking shape, but the notion of a Vala called Salmar—particularly loved by the Noldor—embarking on this journey with them has been excised from the story.³⁵

There was one Lost Tales text that Tolkien had in front of him and pulled heavily from when he wrote the next stage of the "Silmarillion": The Music of the Ainur, which in the late 1930s, would become the Ainulindalë. Here, Salmar would resurface, briefly: "Salmar came with him, who made the conches of Ulmo."³⁶ This leads Christopher Tolkien to remark, in a note on this passage: "Salmar appears here in the original Music of the Ainur and elsewhere in the Lost Tales, but in no subsequent text until now. This is the first mention of his being the maker of the conches of Ulmo."³⁷ This, of course, is the version of the text that would be used in the published Silmarillion and the last time Tolkien mentioned Salmar in his antemortem writings.

I've written a dozen of these biographies by now, most of them on the Valar. The Valar (like the Ainulindalë in which they star) are unique because the way Tolkien wrote them in the Lost Tales displayed a remarkable degree of persistence compared to other characters in the legendarium. Salmar is a notable exception to this, and the first time I've written a biography where a character's initial depiction in the Lost Tales bears almost no resemblance to his final appearance, used in the published text.

Yes, there are germs of published-Silmarillion-Salmar in the Lost Tales texts. His association with Ulmo is there. He is a musician … definitely, in the Lost Tales; sort of, in the published version. The instruments he plays have changed completely: from harps and lutes and viols to conches, which—as noted above—go from "awful" in their power to instruments of much-subdued power. Furthermore, he is never credited with playing the Ulumúri, only making them.

What happened? Tolkien clearly liked his pantheon enough to retain it, mostly intact, through the legendarium, alone of the Lost Tales materials. What about Salmar didn't he like? In my previous biographies, I note that Tolkien sometimes toned down the "fairy" elements as he evolved characters from the Lost Tales and into the "Silmarillion" proper, but Salmar doesn't contain a lot of fairy elements. In fact, as discussed above, Salmar's character hearkens more to Northern myth and tradition, an area that Tolkien would develop as the "Silmarillion" texts unfolded. I already noted above that Salmar does have a muddled, busy feel for a character: doing too much for his few appearances on the page. He's a sea god, a musician, a mentor of the Noldor (and entangled in their affairs), and a warrior. Furthermore, within these myriad roles, he lacks a uniqueness that leaves him often eclipsed by other Ainur. He is one of four sea gods, and his story is eclipsed by the epic strife between Ulmo and Ossë. In his favor for the Noldor, he competes with Aulë, who wins for obvious reasons: Aulë's own characterization parallels that of his Noldorin proteges, and his association with science and craft are a better vehicle for Tolkien's themes about the dangers of technology and "progress" than Salmar, with his teaching of music. In fact, in our single key glimpse of Salmar's instruction, we see the Noldor leverage his teachings to regain political favor with the Valar: not a particularly Noldorin inclination as the story develops—at least not an inclination of the Noldorin characters whom Tolkien centers in the narrative. Without that association, Salmar's intervention on the Elves' behalf after the fall of Gondolin makes less sense, and again, his role is easily supplanted by characters whose martial prowess leaps off the page, such as Tulkas and Eonwë. Finally, the more memorable of his martial deeds would become the bones Tolkien would pick when later developing warrior-bard characters like Maglor and Fingon.

This leaves the music, the key detail that Tolkien did retain, and even that is (pardon the pun) watered down without the association with the Noldor. Ulmo, Ossë, and Uinen have already claimed the Teleri and Manwë the Vanyar. There is room, certainly, for a Noldorin music teacher, but again, music does not easily illustrate the themes that Tolkien has selected the Noldor to illustrate. Focusing on the relationship between the Noldor and Aulë is much more fruitful.

And so, as Tolkien developed the idea of the Ulumúri, Salmar became a convenient existing character to associate with them, his name reduced to a grace note in the larger music: a name suggesting the depth that Tolkien loved to create in his stories but without much story of his own.

Works Cited

1. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Music of the Ainur.
2. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor.
3. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, "Commentary on The Music of the Ainur."
4. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Music of the Ainur.
5. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor.
6. See, for example, The Silmarillion, "Of the Beginning of Days" regarding the Music of the Ainur: "​​the echo of that music runs through all the veins of the world," i.e., water.
7. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor.
8. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, "Commentary on The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor, (vi) The Gods of Death and the Fates of Elves and Men."
9. The Silmarillion, "Of the Beginning of Days."
10. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Tale of the Sun and Moon.
11. Ibid.
12. The Silmarillion, "Of Eldarmar and the Princes of the Eldalië."
13. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kôr.
14. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Theft of Melko and the Darkening of Valinor.
15. Ibid., Note 2.
16. Jeff Opland, Anglo-Saxon Oral Poetry: A Study of the Traditions (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980), 63. Opland's thesis is that most traditional (i.e., pagan, preliterate) Anglo-Saxon poetry was eulogistic: "not primarily narrative … its function is not to tell a story so much as to define a man through a record of his achievements and qualities …. [Entertainment] is rarely the function of eulogy."
17. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Chaining of Melko.
18. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Cottage of Lost Play.
19. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin, "The texts of The Fall of Gondolin."
20. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Tale of Eärendel, "The Co-events to Eärendel's Tale, Fourth Part."
21. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin.
22. Ibid.
23. Ibid.
24. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The History of Eriol or Ælfwine and the End of the Tales, (1).
25. Ibid.
26. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The History of Eriol or Ælfwine and the End of the Tales, (1).
27. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin, Note 38.
28. The History of Middle-earth, Volume I: The Book of Lost Tales 1, The Chaining of Melko, Of the Coming of the Elves and the Building of Kôr, and The Tale of the Sun and Moon.
29. The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin.
30. Ibid; The History of Middle-earth, Volume II: The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Tale of Eärendel. Tolkien created multiple texts during this time that refer to the "horns of Ulmo" (then Ylmir) as able to effect a dark enchantment over listeners that manifests as an obsessive sea-longing. The 1914 poem "The Horns of Ylmir," written at the same time as The Fall of Gondolin (though, confusingly, published separately), poignantly describes Tuor's experience of hearing the Ulumúri, a song of such power that even the ungovernable sea was forced to obey. Tuor concludes: "'Twas in the Land of Willows that I heard th'unfathomed breath / Of the Horns of Ylmir calling—and shall hear them till my death" (The History of Middle-earth, Volume IV: The Shaping of Middle-earth, The Quenta, Appendix 2: The Horns of Ylmir, lines 73-4). In a second version, from 1915, titled Sea Chant of an Elder Day, Tolkien notes, "Thereafter did Tuor hunger ever after the sea and had no peace in his heart did he dwell in pleasant inland places" (Ibid., emphasis mine). In the 1918 Lay of the Children of Húrin, the Ulumúri are described as "Ylmir's awful conches / in the abyss blowing" (The History of Middle-earth, Volume III: The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of the Children of Húrin, "Failivrin," lines 1585-6). All of these early texts show that the Ulumúri (and the experience of sea-longing) was originally conceived as an obsession so powerful that it became a singular focus of those who heard the Ulumúri's "awful" music.
31. The History of Middle-earth, Volume V: The Lost Road and Other Writings, Ainulindalë.
32. The History of Middle-earth, Volume X: Morgoth's Ring, The Later Quenta Silmarillion (II), The Valaquenta.
33. The Silmarillion, Valquenta.
34. The Silmarillion, "Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië."
35. The History of Middle-earth, Volume IV: The Shaping of Middle-earth, The Earliest "Silmarillion.," section 17.
36. The History of Middle-earth, Volume V: The Lost Road and Other Writings, Ainulindalë.
37. Ibid., Note 15.